


the differences between us

by yourfictionalprincess



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Falling In Love, Iwaizumi is 20, Lack of Communication, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oikawa is 27, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 05:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15527595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourfictionalprincess/pseuds/yourfictionalprincess
Summary: When Hajime meets someone at the bar and decides to take him home, all of his issues with dating seem to dissipate. It's been two months since and everything has been great.Until he starts his first day at his new university.





	the differences between us

The backwash of his first beer tips back over his lips, emptying its contents in one ginger swig. Hajime sets it down, slides it over where someone will inevitably come by and take it away, asking if he needs another. He doesn’t come to bars that often, but it only takes one or two trips to learn. They weren’t exactly his dig, but being new to these parts make them a necessity. Meeting people on obscure dating sites just isn’t going to cut it for his standards anymore – granted bars were merely a step above in finding someone.

It’s not like he’s having any real luck anyways. His dance moves are stiff and embarrassingly grampa-esque in their motions, keeping him far away from the floor so that some poor, unsuspecting patron doesn’t try to come by and grab his hand, thinking they’ll get a good ass grinding from someone whose hips just stand. There’s quite a few places he’ll never visit again as humiliation lingers and he refuses to spend a whole night out with face buried in his hands, reliving. This is the closest bar to his house, so he can’t fuck this up.

But his choice in seating, in retrospect, might have been a little too reclusive. Hajime’s not much to look at, but his plainness has never stopped people from approaching him in the past. He wonders if trying to avoid the floor has backed him into a corner that made him too unapproachable. The bar activities are in full swing and yet he remains alone, too proud to move incase someone’s been watching and laughs at his decision to change booths.

His finicky was never going to get him a good lay.

Troubled and awfully bored, he pulls out the menu from where it’s tuck over to the side, wondering if he should get something different this time just to give him an excuse to walk up to the bar.

A beer – same brand he’d been drinking – is set down in front of him, making him blink. Hajime looks up at the red-headed waitress who’d brought it to him.

“An admirer,” she tells him with a smile, “wanted you to have that.” She gestures over her shoulder where his eyes follow and settle on the silhouette of a man who, upon meeting his gaze, tips his martini to him with an award winning smile.

Hajime’s so stunned, he almost doesn’t tip the beer back at him in thanks. He immediately looks away, too swept up in the man’s sheer beauty to not make an instant fool of himself. He sips the beer thoughtfully, hoping his admirer will look away soon so that he can stare again.

He’s surprised by the sudden shift of fabric, booth across from him sinking down with new company. That smile is even more dazzling up close, accompanied by fair skin and a handsome profile. He has to blink a few times just to make sure he’s not imagining things.

“My…” the stranger trills, voice high and airy – not quite what Hajime expected, “you sure handle getting a drink from a man well.”

Those deep, chocolate eyes are calculating, words hitting his person in a way that comes off as harmless, but Hajime knows enough that he’s here prodding for information – more than likely his sexuality.

Not that he’ll give this guy the satisfaction of knowing when he could have just asked.

He lifts his shoulders in shrug, taking a sip of beer to make is point, “Hey, a beer’s a beer.”

Artfully plucked eyebrows furrow, not liking his response. His admirer recovers well though, smile still blinding enough to rival stars.

“Not everyone is as simple-intended as you, I suppose.” He quips and Hajime’s having a hard time listening while his eyes follow the gentle slope of his nose.

He does cock a curious brow at the man when he realizes he may have just been insulted. “Nothing simple about it, you’d have to be a real dumbass to refuse a free drink.”

That seems to be the exact comment his company’s looking for.

“Such crude language!” He teases, expression crafted, invitingly so. “Don’t tell me you speak to your mother with a mouth like that – ah, what was it again…?”

Hajime takes another swig of beer, finally catching that pleasantly buzzed feeling. It’s not enough to make him be nicer with this person. “It wasn’t anything – and trust me, the way I talk to my mother and the way I talk to a stranger like you are two vastly different things.”

His admirer rests his chin against his folded palms, eyes twinkling mischievously. “I guess I can work with Nameless-chan for now – mine is Oikawa Tooru if you were wondering.”

Oikawa makes a sweep with his hands, long fingers and neatly trimmed nails catching Hajime’s attention. He watches him finally take a sip from his own drink. “And Nameless-chan, you make it sound like I’m not someone you can talk to nicely!”

“With that attitude? No. Maybe if you tell me why you came over here and disturbed my peace, I might be more inclined.”

Perfect hands fold together on the table surface. Hajime, for the life of him, can’t figure out why he’s so enamored with them.

“Oho, someone’s grumpy.” He smirks, “Maybe I just thought someone so lonesome could use some good company.”

Hajime’s beer clicks against the table where he sets it down. “Isn’t good company stretching it?”

Oikawa laughs and Hajime swears he can feel his heart do a little jump. He quickly picks his beer back up and chugs half of it, hoping the burn would somehow ground him.

“How uncouth of you, Nameless-chan. I’ll have you know I’m an absolute delight to be around.”

“So they tell you,” Hajime forces an eye roll, wondering if his face shows his quickening heartbeat, “and can you stop it with the Nameless-chan? My name is Iwaizumi.”

The way Oikawa’s face visibly brightens makes him feel like he’s made a big mistake, but it’s too late to take it back.

“Iwaizumi _.”_ He breathes, somewhat reverently. Hajime wouldn’t mind hearing him say it again, under much different circumstances.

This was bad, he decides after a brief self-reflection. He was falling for that stupid charm faster than he could stay afloat and even when he knew this guy was full of it, he found that to be oddly endearing in its own way. This man was trying so hard to impress him with that false bravado. The scary part – it’s working.

Sitting prey in a lion’s den, waiting for him to strike; that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.  

Oikawa’s still staring at him, gaze flickering over his features, always searching. Hajime feels if he lets him look long enough, he’ll suddenly be able to read his mind and see just how taken Hajime is becoming for him. Quickly, he tries to distract him.

“You never told me the real reason you came over here.”

Brown eyes blink; he probably had been expecting Hajime to let that go. He gets fascinated by the way Oikawa’s lips press together, brows minutely pinching like he’s torn in answering.

“…Iwa-chan is really handsome.” He says with an air of nonchalance even though Hajime can see his cheeks twinging the tinniest bit pink. “I really wanted to come and say hi.”

Somehow, the only thing he manages to zero in on is, “Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa’s shoulders tilt, smarmy smile back on his face. “It sounds cuter. Your name is a mouthful anyways.” He waves him over, like he hadn’t just insulted his family name. “We both look like we could use another drink, yeah? Want the same thing again?”

“Yeah.” Hajime says, only registering what he’s agreed to when Oikawa stands. “Hey wait, I’ll pay for this round.”

He watches Oikawa’s lip tilt, a smile full of promises and mischief. “It’s my treat – for so rudely intruding on you lone contemplation time.” He adds the last part as an afterthought.

Watching his back go to the bar, Hajime wonders how dangerous it would be to tell him he’s been waiting for a guy like him all night.

 

◊◊◊

      

It’s never struck him before what it would be like kissing a person taller than himself. Hajime is by no means short – taller than the average male in fact – but Oikawa’s all legs with a long, smooth torso, one that fingers drag appreciatively over as Hajime works harder towards his mission in getting this stupid button up off. His partner is no help in the effort, too intent on devouring his mouth with an amount of tongue not safe for public.

Good thing he’s already kicked back his front door or else his neighbors might complain. Oikawa isn’t exactly quiet, moaning over his mouth with an intensity that has his mind buzzing – or maybe that’s just the four beers.

Oikawa’s breath when they part smells like whatever the hell he had back at the bar, all swirling blue and hypnotic. It’s intoxicating somehow, even if it’s a simple liquor smell. He can better appreciate the lips sucking in his bottom one now that he has that damn shirt opened.

This man is in impeccable shape – and that’s coming from a gym rat. His pectorals are broad and toned, nipples soft where they peak over pale flesh. Hajime likes how they feel dragging rough palms over them, making Oikawa’s breath catch. There is just the barest give to his hips when Hajime travels down his torso to grab a hold and squeeze. Hajime beats him in the running for arms, but Oikawa’s legs are fantastic. If this man doesn’t play some kind of sport, he must go running religiously.  

He grabs his ass because at this point there’s no shame. Oikawa sighs something happy against his lips. Hajime likes the way his pretty fingers trail up his arms now that his meddlesome jacket is out of the way.

“This,” Oikawa huffs, words satisfyingly breathless, “isn’t fair, your arms are so big – it’s too much.”

Hajime mouths at his neck when he can’t quite reach Oikawa’s mouth, nibbling lightly. “You’re one to fucking talk – I could work legs every day and they’d still never be half as nice as yours.”

“They’re even nicer in bed.” He purrs and Hajime doesn’t need any more incentive to take him back to his room.

Kissing Oikawa feels nice. As much as they try to hurry, impatience shows in the way they shove each other back into walls, lips searing and lungs gasping. Oikawa’s lips are so full and red now all because of him.

He likes that he can shove this man back with force, mangle him the way he wants without having to worry about being too aggressive or leaving too many marks. Oikawa’s eager to return the favor, has no qualms in twisting Hajime the way he wants, too – give and pull, he could get used to this dynamic.

They stumble into the bedroom, lips still locked and fighting. Hajime loves a good challenge, incredibly turned on by how Oikawa won’t back down and let him win. He has to earn it and that’s good. Oikawa shoves him down onto his own bed and Hajime’s a grinning mess.

A swollen lip disappears behind a bite of teeth, chocolate eyes roaming over him. He seems pleased with his work – probably that big ass hickey he sucked into his neck – and Hajime can’t even begin to describe how it feels to be looked at so sensually.

Hajime props up on his elbows, hopes that his own gaze conveys how much he’s enjoying this. If not, Oikawa only has to look down to confirm.

Long legs slide against his, straddling him as a firm ass presses directly into his crotch. Hajime groans and Oikawa seems delighted, shifting so they touch together more. As nice as that feels, Hajime’s equally as interested in getting that mouth back on him. Oikawa’s a veteran kisser and he can already admit he’s addicted – it’s not often he’d choose someone’s mouth over a nice ass in his lap.

His partner is so vocal, makes such pretty sounds just from the simple act of brushing over his shoulders to tug him down or grabbing his ass because it’s just there. The last girl he dated was always so quiet when they fooled around and while he tried to convince himself he was fine with that because he liked her, Hajime is a person-pleaser. He loves any indication that the person he’s with is being pleased.

Oikawa bites his tongue sharply and it’s not intentional, but he reacts. He claps his covered ass with a hand and the man over him yelps, both of them surprised. Hajime’s stunned by his own forwardness but it’s worth it; worth that look that is tilted down over his nose, eager and wanting. Oikawa thrusts his hips forward and back in clear indication and Hajime likes his little jolt when he slaps him again.

There’s a pause in Oikawa’s relentless grinding as he leans over, breath fawning of Hajime’s ear.

“I usually top.” He tells him and Hajime’s fine with that. Doesn’t really care how they come together as long as they do. But Oikawa adds, “I think I want you to fuck me though. I think you’ll do it just how I like.”

To a pleaser, that’s another issued challenge. Of course he’s going to fuck Oikawa however he asks. He surprises them both by flipping them over but smiling lips are easy to tilt back up, hands running over his arms in appreciation. Hajime strips his shirt off only so skin can touch more skin and Oikawa’s little moan is rewarding. For someone as plain as himself, Oikawa makes him feel like a prize the way his gaze flickers over him, sighing where eyes linger like he’s the lucky one here.

Hajime hates to break apart, but if he wants to do a good job, he’s going to need the proper material and less clothes. He pats Oikawa’s leg before standing up. “Take these off.”

Kiss-swollen lips quirk at him, “Oo, so bossy~!” But he still lifts his hips and Hajime – working on undoing his belt – watches hips rise and roll, slacks shucking with pale, milky legs coming into view.

Oikawa’s right, his legs are much nicer in bed.

His belt drops with a thump and his pants follow with them. He leaves his boxers on and kicks his pants somewhere obscure, heading to the bathroom where he stores his lube when it’s not being put to active use. He swears he hears a moan when he bends over to retrieve it.

Oikawa’s a pretty sight all laid up over his sheets. Artfully swept hair fluffy and ruffled with how much Hajime’s pulled on it. His briefs are tight and show off delicious hip bones. It’s probably weird but Hajime wants to leave hickies all over his happy trail.

“You’re staring too much.” His partner complains, “Come over here and fuck me.”

Hajime doesn’t need to be told twice.

He sets the lube on the nightstand and tugs briefs down painfully soft skin, trying to throw them somewhere close to where Oikawa tossed his pants, shirt too in Hajime’s brief absence.

Oikawa lies on his pillow like a dream and that’s before Hajime reveals him and his pretty twitching cock. It’s long and curves like everything attractive about him. Hajime’s not a blow job on the first date kind of guy, but he can’t help but feel the urge to put it in his mouth. So he does; licks the tip, sucking lightly while hands smoothed up the backs of fantastic thighs. Oikawa’s head tosses back with a breathy whine and Hajime watches fingers twitch, like they wants to grab onto his head. He sucks down a little more, just to see if that resolve will break, and is pleased by the long fingers that curl in his hair, tugging lightly. A muffled _gods_ slips out of the other man’s lips and Hajime tries not to smile as he sucks slowly, building a rhythm.

Having Oikawa squirming is nice. He likes that he can’t keep still, likes that his own actions are enough for him to just let go and accept his pleasure. Hajime was supposed to be fingering and fucking him, but he can’t seem to mind what he’s got in this mouth, even if he can’t quite take all of it.

The hands he has holding down Oikawa’s hips recognize a telltale tremble. He pulls off, supplying his hand in place long enough to ask, “Wanna come once?”

It’s as if Hajime blowing him has sucked out any of that mirthful teasing he had for him before. Oikawa nods his head once, letting a quiet _please_ when Hajime’s hand keeps pumping him.

He lowers his mouth back onto him only because he knows what it’s like to get a sad handjob in the middle of a good blowjob. Oikawa won’t come in his mouth, but he’s gracious enough to get him close to the edge before squelching his slobbery dick in a fist, giving two harsh pumps. Oikawa thrashes, throat jumping high with noise as Hajime lets him spill into his hand. He uses the tissues by the bed to wipe off, hoping it lands somewhere close to the bin.

Oikawa is so pretty with a blush high on his cheeks. He’s gone a bit boneless, legs just deadweight where they’re still somewhat on Hajime. He looks sated, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m not usually that fast.” He tells him, like he cares, as if it ruins their experience if he comes faster than Hajime’s expectations.

Hajime leans down to kiss his hip. “I’m glad you liked it then.” Because he wants him to know he takes it as a point of praise, not his partner’s inefficiency.

Oikawa’s lips curl and he rather likes the soft smile he’s sporting. A man could get used to the sight he makes with those hazy eyes, happy and filled with desire.

“Fuck me?” He offers again, this time like it’s Hajime’s reward.

“With pleasure.”

 

◊◊◊

 

Hajime mostly sees Oikawa on the weekends. He’s mentioned he works at a nearby university – the one Hajime will be transferring to in a few weeks – and he just assumes that Oikawa must be some kind of TA full-time, doing his classes on the side. He had said his major was in Education.

Not that it matters because he has plenty of other things to talk about with him, like shitting on his bad taste in movies. He’s a CGI fanatic and Hajime will argue that quality graphics will never make up for a piss poor plot. But they still end up watching his movie anyways.

Oikawa likes his coffee frilly and covered in whip cream (to no surprise), but sometimes when they meet up on Wednesdays, he takes it black and calls it _one of those days._ He carries a small book bag around that has like ten different flavors of chapstick in it and there are so many alien stickers on his laptop, there’s hardly a laptop there to see – he complimented him on his Sailor Moon sticker once and the blush he got back was adorable.

They have sex like it’s going out of style. Oikawa says his sex drive hasn’t been this active in a longtime and Hajime figures he must have been a pretty lively teen. For someone around his age, he says _when I was young_ an awful lot, but Hajime just thinks it adds to his charm, like middle schoolers who say _back in my day_ when they just got elementary school.

Their first date was the day after their first time together and Hajime likes how the order doesn’t bother either of them. It’s been two months since they met at the bar and Hajime’s content, finishing the last of his obligations to his prior university so that he can focus on starting at his new one. Tokyo is much bigger than he anticipated, he wonders if maybe he should get Oikawa to tour him around since he knows the campus.

In his pocket, his phone vibrates.

[From: Oikawa]

_it’s been a real shitty day_

[From: Oikawa]

_can i come over?_

The texts he usually gets from Oikawa are usually filled with an eye-rolling amount of kaomoji. Half the time Hajime can’t even decipher what he’s trying to express, tells him to use his words like a big boy.

[To: Oikawa]

_I’m home now_

[To: Oikawa]

_Come whenever you want_

He gets back a thank you and clicks off his phone, setting it on his desk so he’ll hear it if Oikawa texts again. He feels highly alerted, not quite knowing to do with his hands now. Hajime’s not sure what to expect; Oikawa’s such a fiery piece of work, it’s hard not to imagine him in his usual, teasing ways. He’s been annoyed with his aversion to seriousness a few times sure, but he gets it. To all of his spunk, Oikawa’s human; he likes to avoid his problems with distractions and that’s not something he can fault him for. If this between them continues though, he’s going to figure a way around that habit. Maybe beat it out of him.

What freaks him out now is that Oikawa may actually be coming here with a real problem and Hajime’s pretty shit at handling his own, let alone giving advice to someone else. Doubled by the fact they actually haven’t put a term to what they are and he’s not sure if your friends with benefits partner should give you guidance or if an ass eating session suffices. 

But he steels himself for the inevitable ring of the doorbell. He’ll need to get used to this if he wants to keep seeing Oikawa.

He’s surprised to see Oikawa isn’t as upset as he’s expecting. A little more quiet, somewhat subdue, but he’s still pressing a soft _Iwa-chan_ into the soft skin below his ear and oh, maybe he’s here for that? They break away after a brief kiss – Oikawa’s doing. He sheds his jacket and hangs it, shuffling out of his shoes and imploring Hajime to follow after him as he heads for the living room. He hops on the couch with a little bounce, holding up a tiny case with a DVD in it he’d pulled from his coat pocket.

“I rented a movie from the box – that one you said you wanted to watch before.”

Hajime crooks a brow but says nothing as he takes the DVD and slips it in. He goes and grabs himself a bottled water, grabbing one of the pocari for Oikawa from the few still left the last time he was here. He accepts it with a smile and snaps the lid; Hajime does the same and takes a few sips before setting it down on the table.

Oikawa presses play on the movie when he sits and catches Hajime off-guard when he suddenly rests his head in his lap, turning away from the TV.

“Oikawa?” He questions, not because he minds but because it strikes him as unusual.

“Just a little nap, Iwa-chan.” He promises, not sounding upset, just genuinely tired.

“What about the movie?” He asks, because wouldn’t it be a waste of money not to watch it?

He hears the tinniest yawn and watches Oikawa’s face scrunch accordingly. He snuggles against Hajime’s thighs.

“It’s for you, in return for letting me borrow your lap for a little while.”

There’s not a good explanation for the sudden feeling that wells up in his chest, but if Hajime had it give it a name, it would be warm.

 

◊◊◊

 

“Hey, you still in the mood?”

Hajime stares at him from the doorway of the bathroom, snorting at him. “Was fucking me not enough for you?”

Something on Oikawa’s face contorts – panicked? Maybe he didn’t realize Hajime was joking and thought that offended him? He slides back into bed, throwing an arm around Oikawa’s waist. He immediately relaxes in his hold, but Hajime can see twinges of apprehension on his face.

Hajime snuggles closer so he can give a brief kiss to his neck. “I’ll need a second. I came, like, not even two minutes ago.”

Oikawa nods silently, offering his own arm into their hold. Hajime’s content to remain like this, lips pressing mindlessly into bare skin, but Oikawa seems more wound than usual and that’s not going to slide with him.

Long fingers thread through his hair, petting him. Hajime is so used to being the giver in all of his relationships, he’s forgotten what it’s like to be spoiled. Oikawa’s fingers feel so nice running through his hair and sometimes he forgets they aren’t really magic. Hajime had been taken with them for good reason; Oikawa gives the best fucking massages.

He’s been more catering this evening, Hajime notes. Has been more giving the last couple of times he’s been over. Hajime’s no fool, realizes that Oikawa is the type to play games with ulterior motives, but this, right now, doesn’t feel like that.

He feels like he’s being cherished.

Oikawa presses a sigh into his hair that sounds neither fond nor unhappy and Hajime leans back enough to press a ginger kiss to his jaw, licking his lips and setting his resolve.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He asks, knowing Oikawa’s more likely to crumple after being softened by sex.

The hand still in his hair settles, thumb stroking the skin just below his ear. Hajime doesn’t know if Oikawa realizes he’s doing it; his eyes are looking at him but he feels like he’s being stared through in deep thought.

He rubs over his hip; he owes him the chance to get his thoughts together.

Oikawa’s lips are a defining feature about him, not because they’re nice to kiss or pretty to look at, but because the easiest way to gauge how he’s feeling is watching how they twist. He sees the hesitancy that Oikawa doesn’t want to admit by the way his lips press briefly into a flat line.

He squeezes his hip, encouraging him.

He watches Oikawa fall, like a house of cards, looking at him with something he’s not quite used to.

“I…really like you.” He confesses after his brief debate, purposefully staring away from Hajime. “I like you a whole lot and I’m not used to things going this fast.”

Oikawa bites his lips, finding the courage to meet his eye, “I want to keep you, but I’m really bad at stuff like this. Dating and calling each other boyfriend, I’m not – I’m just…bad.”

Hajime can’t say he’s exactly blown away by the confession. If anything, he feels awful that Oikawa’s been sitting on it and couldn’t tell him. How can he not see how much Hajime likes him too?

He reaches out, flicking Oikawa’s nose – much to his displeasure – before grazing over his cheek, cupping his face. “You worry too much about stupid things.”

Hajime kisses his nose and pulls back, kissing his pout so Oikawa’s not so put out by being insulted. He snuggles them together, content with his partner’s little hitch of breath.

“I’m okay with how things are between us now. If it feels fast, then fuck it, we don’t have to abide by any standards. I like you and I’m okay with just this. I’m yours as much as you want me to be and we can figure the rest out later. I’m not going to be mad just because you’re not ready to say the B-word.”

It feels like a balloon deflating in his arms the way Oikawa sags. He’s finally cuddling Hajime back though so he figures he’s said the right thing.

“You’re too understanding.” Oikawa complains, like it’s a bad thing.

Hajime shrugs, “I like you,” he tells him, plain and simple, “I want you here with me too, so I’ll work with whatever you give me.”

Oikawa makes a sound against him like he’s disgusted, but his smile is open. Hajime likes that he can trace it carefully with his thumb before kissing it.

 

◊◊◊

 

As much as Hajime likes to think he’s ready for the start of a new semester, he’s an absolute zombie when it comes to morning classes. Not even the power of expensive café coffee will open his eyes any more, at least until noon.

He shoots a quick text to Oikawa, cursing that it’s too early to be alive. He doesn’t get anything back and figures that one of them must be getting the sleep the other sorely misses.

At least the classroom is a comfortable size. He’s so used to doing school work from home that he wasn’t sure if he was going to like going back to a more tradition setting. But the chairs are decent, desks big enough that he can spread out a little if he needs. Maybe he’ll get lucky and there won’t be too many people taking this early class.

A crowd of girls walk in, hair all done up nice like and lips painted in all different shades of pink. They seem elated – Hajime can’t fathom how at 7AM – whispering together and taking the closes seats they can to the front.

“Did you hear? Our professor is supposed to be real eye candy to look at.”

One of them giggles, “Maybe if were good enough students, he might take on a date!”

“How scandalous! That’s totally against the rules – he could be fired!”

But all of them blabber on, not affected in the least by the fact they could lose this poor man’s his job with their wishes. Being a younger professor at a university had to be difficult.

More people walk into the classroom and Hajime pays them less of mind, digging out his notebook and a pencil out the closer it gets to time. The digital watch on his wrist beeps five minutes til. By then, the classroom is almost filled, a large portion of girls sitting closer to the front.

It’s exactly on the dot when the professor rushes in, hurrying to set his things down.

Hajime drops his pencil on the ground.

“Good morning everyone, sorry to be in a rush – the train was lagging behind today. I’ll introduce you to myself in Japanese first. I’m Oikawa Tooru, your professor for this English course; it will be a pleasure working with all of you.”

He repeats it again in English but Hajime hardly comprehends – and that’s not because his English is mediocre at best.

Oikawa’s gaze sweeps over the classroom, probably to commit the whole class to memory, Hajime’s sure.

Everything comes to a complete standstill when they’re eyes meet.

Oh shit _,_ Oikawa’s expression screams, face open and wide with surprise. He recovers only because of a cough coming from the back, reminding him he’s still standing in front of a large group of students. He continues on with his professor-ly banter, tossing frantic looks in Hajime’s direction whenever he catches view of him.

Hajime swallows, hoping to calm down his frantically beating heart and actually focus on what his professor is saying.

Oh shit is right – this is going to be one hell of a semester.                

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively: ask the man's age and occupation before you do the frick frack patty wack
> 
> [tumblr](https://yourfictionalprincess.tumblr.com/)


End file.
